About

bodyc­ity is a dance democ­racy. we are com­pletely ensem­ble based, each of us with vary­ing lev­els of train­ing. we are all cre­ative direc­tors. our dances chal­lenge the notion of dance and chore­og­ra­phy as a traditional/singular vocab­u­lary per­formed by spe­cific dance “types.” we are ded­i­cated to the site spe­cific. we are inter­ested in the humor­ous, per­plex­ing, delight­ful, weird, pen­sive, beau­ti­ful, excit­ing and lively.

Mem­bers

Alisha Adams

Sarah Ander­son

Made­line Baugh
Made­line found her way to bodyc­ity through a wilder­ness of move­ment, sweat, and tan­gled breath.

That was in the fall of 2005.

Into its flow and solid strength, the city wel­comed her, and against hard pave­ment she dragged soft body. And against soft body she fell deeply, into the joy of move­ment and the com­fort of a dance with no destination.

For in this city there is only grat­i­tude; thank­ful­ness for the won­der of each body, the unique and the unpleas­ant, the grace­fully dis­jointed, and the ulti­mate imper­ma­nence of even some­thing so steady as a city.

Luke Fis­chbeck
Luke Fis­chbeck is writ­ing a bio for him­self while lis­ten­ing to music he is try­ing to make wait a hawk is scream­ing out­side! its still
scream­ing! what’s going on? also he is read­ing email. now its time to ride bikes to bodyc­ity prac­tice so we can get there early and eat a
sand­wich next door. hawksandsparrows.org and glaciersofnice.com.

Betsy Hume

Ali Hyman
Run­ning the gamit of dance dis­ci­plines since I was a lit­tle kid grow­ing up in the city of LA, I have in more recent years been greatly inspired by Clas­si­cal Bal­let and espe­cially the ways in which It brushes against the folk­loric tra­di­tions of Cen­tral Asia, Rus­sia and East­ern Europe. Empas­sioned by roman­tic music, roman­tic cos­tumes, his­tor­i­cal and pri­mor­dial dance moves, the sun, water, french per­fume, bub­bles, punk rock, flip­ping the script, drop­ping bombs, break­ing glass, scams and jams, trash, chaos etc… I am com­pletely hon­ored to dance with Bodyc­ity, a troupe that cel­e­brates diver­sity of inspi­ra­tion, and embraces the human impulse to dance and cre­ate cul­ture from the ground up. Out of the bed­room and into the streets!

Jen­nifer Lehman
I like to dance.

Cristina Paul
Cristina Paul is a native Los Ange­leno. She likes: claw­foot tubs, Legos, stone ground mus­tard, peonies in May, get­ting scrubbed at the Korean spa, phosphenes, the smell of old books, the eupho­ria of a long head­stand, din­ner par­ties with friends, Christ­mas music at any time of year, mak­ing lists… She dis­likes: sick peo­ple on a crowded sub­way train, extra pack­ag­ing, wait­ing to open presents, peanuts (the food, not the comic strip)… Super secret tip: to dif­fer­en­ti­ate her from impos­tors, look for the dirt on her glasses.

Molly Rodgveller
Coerced into bal­let as an eight year old (by want­ing to mimic friends, not by any push from my mother, lord no), I lacked grace and found the basic bar rou­tine some­what bor­ing. I wrote my very first poem imme­di­ately before a class, describ­ing how com­pletely alien and some­what gross a knee looks under tights. 325% of my life later and after a degree in lit­er­a­ture, bal­let has trans­formed into a myr­iad of meth­ods of flaunt­ing arms, hips and hair, while attempt­ing not to spill the prover­bial seed of self expres­sion and dis­cov­ery planted in each flick and jut. In this way, I can help sup­ply space for us to snicker at our­selves even more than you do.

I want to make books, keep kit­tens, and go everywhere.

Lake Sharp
I’ve been a mem­ber since back in 2005. My dance epiphany came whilst sit­ting atop a bar stool, “Mea­gan, I wanna move.” An under­stand­able sen­ti­ment hav­ing just grad­u­a­tion from col­lege, we began meet­ing in Meagan’s liv­ing room where we still build the bulk of our dances today. I took some Afro-Haitian dance classes in col­lege, I watched a lot of MTV in mid­dle school, and I often per­fect my moves mid­day in my liv­ing room. I am inspired in part by the fol­low­ing: Kate Bush, head­bangers, old ladies in the park, my cats, axl rose, marches, plants, moun­tains, 80’s exer­cise and music video, my friends and their hot moves.

bodyc­ity is my favorite extracur­ric­u­lar, but I bring home the (veggie-)bacon as a designer and dress­maker for a local bou­tique in Sil­ver­lake. When I grow up a really wanna be a work­ing actor, so I also par­lay in film and tele­vi­sion, most recently as a meth addict and the undead. Other extracur­ric­u­lars include bike-commuting, gar­den­ing, brew­ing kom­bucha and mak­ing lil’ videos.

Aubrey White
There is much you can tell about a per­son by their feet. I’ve been look­ing at mine a lot lately. They are always dirty. The balls of my feet and bot­tom of my big toe have cal­luses on them. It sounds gross, I know. But in actu­al­ity, it is a sign of life. It requires far too much still­ness to care for one’s feet. That pro­tec­tive layer of cal­luses only shows up after years of danc­ing in liv­ing rooms, across con­crete floors, and up steep streets. I usu­ally think my feet are rather unat­trac­tive. But they make a nice map.

My dance train­ing began in the kitchen with my mom. It has pro­gressed sig­nif­i­cantly since then, but the kitchen is still my favorite place to shake a tail feather. I’ve danced with bodyc­ity for nearly 3 years (I think). Gar­dener, unversed banjo player, map maker, gig­gler extra­or­di­naire. Nick­names include Chedswick, Pants, Bobby, and Oobroo.

I’m part­ing ways with bodyc­ity for the world of higher learn­ing. But I’ll be back. And I’ll be danc­ing in my kitchen in the meantime.

Mea­gan Yel­lott
dance is per­pet­u­ally at the top of my spine. some­times i let it creep or explode into the rest of my body but it’s always there, between my shoul­der blades, wait­ing to dom­i­nate my anatomy. my mind is empty when i dance and when I’m really sweat­ing into a project, i am present and glow­ing. i wish i could be danc­ing all of the time but I have a bad foot and, well, The Red Shoes has a pretty severe end­ing. so, when i’m not danc­ing, i’m think­ing about future dances, parks, plants, new ways to inhabit the land­scape, struc­tures of orga­ni­za­tion, ani­mals, beasts, devil’s advo­cacy, and, gen­er­ally, how to love more.